


chemoluminescence

by orphan_account



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Arcades, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, kai and misaki compete at the claw game thing, small children abound, there's a whole tag for ppl who are bad at tagging I Have Found My Place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aichi’s grin lights up the entire arcade, Kai thinks, and then he realizes that’s Ren with glow sticks up to his elbows.</p><p>(alternatively titled: Kai Toshiki Very Much Regrets Everything.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	chemoluminescence

**Author's Note:**

> [anger and regret](http://gyazo.com/1b80096719ea0233f79465415ce26bdc)  
>  this is not very good and i apologize in advance

He gets the text about heading for the arcade on a Friday afternoon from three different people.

Classes are over for the week, and because it’s hot and muggy and aggravating outside everyone’s in a hurry to head somewhere with air conditioning. Or a fan, at the very least. Kai is not holding out much hope for a fan; he’s headed to the convenience store, because he’s out of milk and bread and fruit and at this rate he’ll end up eating cereal out of a box on Saturday and calling it lunch. He chances a glance at the three unread messages while he’s walking and decides to wait until the crosswalk to shoot off the triad of negative responses: “hell no” to Ren, “tell Ren I said hell no” to Miwa, and a simple "I'm not up for it" to Aichi.

(Which is the truth. He is not up for reliving the first and only time he’s ever been to the arcade with Suzugamori Ren in tow.)

Needless to say, by the time Kai emerges from the (fan-less) convenience store, he has six more messages and he’s willing to bet that five of them are replies. He carts his bags home and digs around in his pocket for the keys to his flat before letting himself up. The air conditioning feels like blessed heaven to someone who’s just spent an hour in muggy June pre-rain heat, and Kai wonders as he puts away assorted groceries why anyone would want to set foot outside voluntarily.

Apparently, a lot of people do. Kai checks his phone and is dismayed to find texts from Kourin, Morikawa and an unknown number in addition to the ones he’s received already. Scowling, he swipes aside the notifications and jabs the call button next to Ren’s name.

Ren answers on the second ring. He’s barely audible and drowned out by noise. “What’s up?”

“Stop giving my number to people,” Kai says. “The hell is that idiot Morikawa texting me for?”

“I didn’t, I swear!” Ren sounds genuinely affronted. “Morikawa has your number cause of that group project, remember? And Rekka knows _everyone--”_

 _Rekka,_ thinks Kai, _that's the unknown number._ “I don’t even know who Rekka  _is--”_

“Just come, okay?” Ren huffs. “You’re always such a stick in the mud about going anywhere.”

“If the words ‘because it’s Friday’ come out of your mouth,” begins Kai, but Ren cuts him off.

“Anyways, it’s Frida--”

Kai hangs up on him and heads to the freezer for an Italian ice.

* * *

 

He spends the whole train ride thinking of excuses.

He wants to see if Ren’s matured any since the last time they all went out. He finished the weekend homework in study hall while Miwa folded fighter planes out of his scrap work. His potted plant was judging him for lying in front of the AC and eating lemon ice out of a cup with a spoon on a Friday evening. Every reason except the truth is on the tip of his tongue, so naturally the truth is what Kai answers with when Aichi asks why he showed up.

“Felt like it.”

Aichi’s grin lights up the entire arcade, Kai thinks, and then he realizes that’s Ren with glow sticks up to his elbows.

“Want one?”

“Like hell.”

He ends up with two orange glow bracelets anyway, courtesy of Miwa when he’s not looking. They shine brightly through the thin sleeves of his light grey shirt, and his scowl deepens as he watches Ren drag his friends out of the booth and in the direction of the pinball machine. Soon, it’s just him and a handful of people he’s never seen before. Across from him is a short girl who’s braiding her bubblegum-pink hair while texting someone, which is a feat in itself. Next to him, moron Morikawa and his equally-as-irritating friend are playing a game of Vanguard while the twins from the class next to his act as referees.

One of the twins holds up a deck. “I call a game with the winner,” she states, looking supremely bored, and it’s then and there that Kai decides he’s leaving because if he spends one more moment in this cramped booth he’s likely going to enter an ennui-induced coma.

It doesn’t take long for Kai to realize the new arcade is a lot larger than it was last time. Taking note of where the booth is as a reference, he looks for another landmark amidst the constant stream of music and lights and noise. The first thing that comes to mind is the claw machine from the last time he was here. It got enough attention at the last arcade to have stayed when they renovated but it’s also small enough that it doesn't attract too much notice, and since most of the floor’s attention is taken up by the dance-off at the DDR machine there probably isn’t anyone playing it at the moment.

His destination thus set, Kai fights his way through the crowd in a futile attempt to avoid being noticed by the idiot currently duking it out with a challenger atop the dance mat; that plan goes to hell in a handbasket when Ren catches sight of him, waves, and yells “Hi, Kai!” for the entire floor to hear. Sufficiently humiliated, he makes a rude gesture at the taller male and ignores the curious eyes of a few bystanders as he narrowly evades an elbow and dodges someone’s spilled drink. He can’t help but feel relieved when he catches sight of the claw game nestled safely in a corner.

Kai dumps the tokens Ren gave him into his right pocket and ditches the plastic cup they came in for a can of pop from the nearby vending machine before leaning in for a closer look. The claw is rigged, hanging loosely from the top of the machine, but it’s a step up from the last time he was here. The toys inside have upgraded too; Kai picks out a few characters from the Saturday cartoons he sometimes catches on TV if he wakes up early enough.

He takes a sip from the brightly-colored can, sets it aside, and pushes two tokens into the machine.

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Kai’s neck prickles. Someone’s watching him.

He guides the claw to one of the plushes and presses the button, watching as the metal appendage wobbles its way down and tentatively grasps one of the Pokemon plushes. There’s the cheerful flickering of lights and explosion of sound that signifies a win, and Kai crouches down to retrieve the toy from the entry bin before turning around to face--

\--some kid.

Whoever this kid is, she can’t be more than five. She’s wearing a pink dress with white bows down the front and her short brown hair is barely being tamed by the matching pink headband. She also looks very much out of place.

 _Lost, probably._ Kai attempts to get her attention.

“Hey.”

The kid doesn’t move. Kai tries again.

“Uh. You.”

Pink Mary Janes are scuffed against the ground, but the smaller girl makes no effort to move.

Kai stands up. This is the wrong thing to do, because he realizes belatedly as her expression changes that she is short and he is tall and he must look even more threatening to her. Quickly, he crouches down so he’s eye level again; as he does so, he accidentally drops the toy and the kid’s eyes light up.

“Torchic!” she cries gleefully, scooping up the stuffed plush before staring him down. “Are you a stranger?”

“No?” tries Kai. He’s pretty sure he technically falls under the classification of ‘stranger’, but he also knows that this is a large place and if this kid runs from him she’s going to get even more lost.

“Hmm…” The girl stares down at the plush she’s holding, pondering it for a second before tilting her head curiously at him. “Big Sis said not to take anything from strangers, but…”

“You can have it.” Kai answers her unspoken question wearily.

“Yay! Thank you, stranger!”

Suddenly, Kai is the recipient of a rather awkward hug, and he bristles at both the contact and at the name. “I said I wasn’t a stranger. My name’s Kai.”

“Okay, stranger Kai! I’m Natsu!” The girl--Natsu--offers him a wide grin in lieu of an apology, and Kai places two fingers to his temple and counts to ten.

“Okay, kid...Natsu. Where’s your big sister?”

“Umm, she said she was gonna be at the pinball machine!” blurts Natsu, hugging the plush close to her chest. “But I checked and she wasn’t there…”

 _Great._ Kai scowls and actually does stand up this time, downing his drink and snatching the first plush he’d nabbed from the machine with one hand. He grudgingly lets Natsu take his other hand as they set off.

Luckily for Natsu’s big sister, it’s a miscommunication; there are actually three different pinball spots in the arcade.

“Keep track of your sister,” Kai tells the other girl, and then he glares her down until she apologizes to both parties.

* * *

 

When he gets back to the claw machine, someone is playing it, and he thinks vaguely that he did not drag himself all the way up the Shibuya line for this bullshit. He watches as the person deftly maneuvers the claw above the head of one of the plushes, then pushes the button with finality.

“You’re a second off,” says Kai, and then regrets it when his brain catches up with his mouth.

“Fucking _hell.”_ The person turns around to give him a dirty glare; behind her, the machine beeps dejectedly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Kai. You’re playing my machine.”

“Heck off,” responds the girl flippantly, tossing a token into the air. She’s taller by an inch, notes Kai with resentment before her next sentence distracts him too badly to comment. 

“I saw what you did for that kid, by the way. You’re not half bad.”

Kai stares at her with a combination of incredulity and muted embarrassment. Incredulity wins out, aided by the fact that he sees _three_  plushes on the sidebar next to her.

“I’m playing a round.”

“Sure,” replies his conversational partner amicably, even going so far as to move out of his way. “You beat me, I’ll even pay for you.”

Kai doesn’t bother answering. Instead, he replaces her at the claw machine and nabs a blue penguin toy.

* * *

 

They take turns attempting to snag things from the claw machine (a miss means relinquishing a turn) and exchange friendly fire while doing so. Kai learns that his partner’s name is Tokura Misaki; she takes a special interest in soccer and urban legends, and she’s been coming to this arcade since she was a kid. In return for this information, he divulges his name and the particular sequence of events that led him to arrive here, throwing in what happened the last time they visited the arcade as a bonus.

“So let me get this straight,” says Misaki, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she switches places with Kai for the umpteenth time. “Your friend pulled up _whole tables_ and started stacking them?”

“Yes,” deadpans Kai. “And then he climbed on top for karaoke and broke a chandelier.”

Misaki starts laughing. It’s a nice sound, and Kai thinks that maybe he wouldn’t mind hearing it more often, but thankfully that train of thought is derailed by a cough from behind them. Said cough is that of the floor manager, here to inform them politely that they’ve spent a large amount of time at this particular machine and might they find another game to indulge themselves in?

“Bullshit,” declares Misaki cheerfully once he’s out of earshot. “We won too much for his liking.”

Kai looks around and realizes that between them they’ve amassed almost twenty plush toys, which isn’t too bad for two teenagers running off a cupful of tokens. He shrugs once in a silent affirmation of her declaration that they need to find something to do with these things.

The floor manager is still eyeing them suspiciously, so Kai and Misaki head outside with their twin armful of plush toys. Once they hit the main street, Misaki dumps her plushes in his arms so she can stretch, prompting him to scowl in aggravation.

“E-excuse me…”

Kai and Misaki look down in sync. There’s a small child in their line of vision; haltingly, he asks if they’re giving the plushes away.

“Uh, sure?” Misaki plucks one from the pile and hands it to the boy; he brightens instantly and blurts his thanks before dashing off.

“Mom! Mom, look what the nice lady gave me!”

Kai raises an eyebrow. “‘Nice’ isn’t exactly the word I'd use.”

“You shut up.” Misaki throws him a vicious glare. “Anyway, I’ve got an idea."

* * *

 

They’re at the main intersection nearest the arcade for barely an hour before the plushes are gone.

Misaki does most of the talking, while Kai stands back and watches; despite her originally jarring personality, the smile on her face as she ruffles some kid’s hair or asks which toy they want is genuine. He catches himself halfway to a smirk while thinking about this and proceeds to drop-kick that traitorous thought into the Hawaiian Islands. (That's far enough from Japan, right?)

He also gets hugged by more than one small child. Misaki laughs at him after the small crowd of small people has dispersed.

“I bet someone wiped their nose on your cardigan.”

“Stuff it.”

They stand in companionable silence, basking in the relief from the day’s heat. The sun is long gone, and the night air is a welcome change from the afternoon’s mugginess. Around them, the streetlamps flicker on, illuminating the sidewalk and stretching their shadows into the road.

“That was _fun,”_ says Misaki suddenly, grinning sideways at Kai. “Usually I don’t trust Rekka when she drags me anywhere, but this time I’m glad I came.”

Kai shrugs noncommittally, carefully avoiding Misaki’s grin in hopes it won’t snipe him. He turns the last plush over in his hands; it’s one of the bright orange ones that Natsu had called ‘Torchic’ earlier, and he knows immediately that he is never going to place this thing anywhere in sight in his apartment.

“Hey, Misaki. Want this?”

Kai holds out the toy. His partner in crime accepts it with a grin and immediately sets about balancing it on her shoulder, much to his amusement; she catches sight of his smirk and gives him what she probably thought was a light punch in the shoulder but could also double as a mortal blow. As he’s rubbing his arm, the doors of the arcade open, evicting their particular party from the abyss, and Kai picks out the faces of almost everyone who’d chosen to go on the Friday night adventure.

“Guess that’s it, huh?” Misaki’s mouth quirks into a somewhat rueful grin. “I’m taking the opposite train line.”

"...Yeah." Kai stares at the street in front of them and tells himself he’s not disappointed.

“I got it!” Misaki slams a fist into her palm and fishes a pencil stub out of her pocket. “We should meet up next week or something,” she continues, scribbling what looks like a phone number on the stuffed toy’s tag and detaching it for him. “Someplace that won’t kick us out. Text me.”

“I probably won’t.”

“I’ll get your number off Rekka.”

“Who’s Rekka?”

Misaki laughs and flicks a salute as her farewell, headed for the other train station. Turning back at the intersection, she smirks at him and cups her hands around her mouth.

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

Kai scowls and resolves to make use of the number on the tag in his hand, if only for the fact that Misaki is out of earshot of anything sarcastic he may have retaliated with.

* * *

 

 **[Kai]**  
Ren asks how you feel about karaoke next week.

 **[Misaki]**  
Over my dead body.

 **[Kai]**  
I told him that.  
He didn't believe me.

He also mentioned blackmail and a prom dress.

 **[Misaki]**  
...If we end up singing, I will personally ensure his demise.

 **[Kai]  
** Sentiment shared. 

Also, bring a camera.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> edit(6.19): fixed missing punctuation and inaccuracies


End file.
